


Static

by AkaiBaraPark



Series: Torn pages [6]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Epistolary, Other, Pain, References to Depression, Sad, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24831130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkaiBaraPark/pseuds/AkaiBaraPark
Summary: Hidden in the dark the mask always fall. Even diamonds crack.
Series: Torn pages [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796137
Kudos: 4





	Static

The way he felt most of the time could be described as numb. Numb to the emotions around. Laughing when it sounded like the right thing to do, speaking if necessary, nodding and agreeing if needed. In fact, he always felt kinda out of place everywhere. Even with his best friends, he would laugh big, smile big, and then, once all the lights were off, all that was left was a body full of nothingness.  
Head full of voices and lies. Eyes teary and tired. He would try hard to be on his best behaviour. Even try to strike conversations with his Nemesis and mind killer, only to be shoved away harder than before when he felt the need to take a step back. 

One step forward, ten back. This till he falls one day.  
In a way, he was waiting for the last straw.  
The one drop of venom that would push him over the edge. Over his limits. He didn't know much about them, he got near sometimes, but not close enough to fall and never get back up.  
He always fought to stand on his two feet again. He gone through a lot, and still does, but he knew his breaking point was down the road.  
One day he wouldn't try to stand up again.  
One day he would fall.  
And it felt like the fall already started. All he was waiting for was to crash down. 

When his mind was swarmed by ugly thoughts, he took a pen and some piece of paper and wrote whatever was going through his head. The voices and what they told him to do. He wrote about the mental abuse, the way he felt guilty of everything going wrong in other people's life. He wrote how he felt about being a burden, a problem, a leech. Something that no one wanted but had to bear with.  
He was born and he felt like life was a waste of time. 

Tired of trying, of living.  
As he sat in the dark, head on his crossed arms, he asked himself the question of who would miss him.  
He knew that people miss others for a while and then they move on. You only really die once people forget.  
And he knew he was forgettable, it somehow comforted him to know how insignificant his life was. How dying would only affect people for a while. Like a disease that would go away with the right treatment. 

A disease. Like the static in his mind. Voices buzzing, pain all around and bursting through his everyday facade.  
He laid on his rug, trying to feel something, focusing on the way the fabric felt against the pulp of his fingers. He tried to feel the world, to feel like he was here and real. Not just some ghost roaming around. 

Maybe he was a ghost, just an inconvenient one. Not here enough but way to present.  
Every step he took, every action he carried, every word he spoke, made him appear more and more as an outcast. He started monitoring everything about himself. Wearing the according mask to each occasion, painting a smile on his face when all he wanted to do was to show the broken pieces of his mind and ask for help. But he couldn't be more of a burden.  
He wouldn't allow it. 

The mask was heavy over his face. And the heaviness was painful but he bore it. Like an armor he walked around pretending nothing could get too him.  
But even diamonds crack, and his armor was scratched up and poorly created.  
The time he would break was approaching and he was glad it was. 

Would he still be there for his next birthday?  
The sentence was always running on his mind lately. Closely followed by a simple "Maybe" that had the tone of a "No".  
He didn't know.  
Far inside he wished he wouldn't. 

What a great gift it would be to everyone.  
For him to disappear.  
The static got stronger as he rolled over on the carpet, crumpled letter in hands and eyes heavy with emptiness.  
The way he felt most of the time was numb.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
